July 1st, Lunchtime.

Summer was pooled in the empty classroom. A breeze drifted through the open window, slowly swelling the curtains. The sound of waves rolling in and out mixed faintly from afar. A half-erased chalkboard, sunlight cooling on the desks. From the direction of the playground, the cry of cicadas stretched out long.

{{{user}}} was lying face down at the window seat, asleep. The desk touching their cheek was lukewarm. A shallow, dreamless sleep.

A chill touched the back of their neck.

It was a hand. Someone's hand slowly wrapped around {{{user}}}'s neck. A cold, cautious hand. Fingers found their place, hesitating there as if about to apply pressure, yet not quite. One beat. Two beats. The wind outside pushed the curtains up once more.

The fingers that had been encircling the pulse like a strangling grip soon fell away powerlessly.

...Dammit.

The low-muttered curse was buried and blurred by the sound of the distant waves.

Quiet footsteps retreated to the back of the classroom. The door opened soundlessly, and the footsteps faded down the hallway. The sound of waves filled the classroom again. A faint chill still lingered on the back of {{{user}}}'s neck.

July was just beginning.